


Haunting Silence

by Jaiden_Stark



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fighting, Gen, Mention of Death, character death (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 15:24:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16705039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaiden_Stark/pseuds/Jaiden_Stark
Summary: It’s been weeks since the Winchester brothers talked about their last mission with Aren  and the events that took place that day. Not facing the problem up front, it comes back to haunt them.





	Haunting Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I haven't written in a while. Well, at least something as long as this anyway.  
> I have written this all in one sitting with one stream of thought and almost little to no editing. And though I am proud of this, forgive any errors you might find. Cause there wasn't much I can do that I could change with my current skill level.

It's been a hard couple of weeks for the Winchester brothers. There was always some unspoken tension between them that usually leads to a heated argument.

That was how things were for them for a while. Ever since their last mission with Aren, which ended when them finding their friend gutted and tied up in some old barn.

They never really spoken about it. It was too painful to bring up the awful memories. They haven't even given themselves the time to mourn. Always busying themselves with the next case to avoid their problems.

It was a painful sight all on its self.

It was a painful sight to any onlooker that looked in. Especially the ones who you don't expect to be there. The ones that would love to extend a hand to help you but have no means of doing so.

For them, this onlooker was Aren.

They couldn't see her, hear her and let alone _feel_ her presence. They saw the things she'd do. Like move objects or send a small breeze their way.

But that is all it was to them, a small breeze. A moving object.

Though they live in a world surrounded by the Supernatural, the thought hasn't crossed their mind that maybe, just maybe their friend was with them.

But would it have been a good thought? Would it have put their minds at ease? To know that somehow their friend couldn't pass on for one reason or another?

We wouldn't really know.

Cause while they could ponder the possibility of it being a reality, they are busy with the next case. The next hunt. The next opportunity they have to avoid mourning her. Of thinking of her, and how they failed her.

It's not their fault, but they blame themselves as if it were.

And so they begin a cycle, of taking up cases to distract themselves, with tension so thick not even an ax can cut through it, and with arguments that start up at any moment of the day that doesn't deal with the actual issue before them.  
And that is where they are now.

In a room, in some old rusty motel on another case. In the midst of another meaningless argument.

It was toxic. It was sickening and it was revolting.

Aren wanted to tell them to stop. To look at what they are doing and face the actual problem at hand.

But they can't hear her.

And she has reduced her attempts to a repeated begging for the fights to cease. To a mantra turned prayed for a God if any to save her from this hell.

_She wished._

_She prayed._

_She begged._

But it all fell onto deaf ears.

Tears ran down her face as she curled onto herself. Repeating the words that no one will hear over the sound of a heated argument.

_Please let it stop._

_Please let it stop._

_Please let it stop._

No reply.

No one paid her any mind.

The argument grew heated. Punches were thrown. It was getting hard to handle. She was shaking, and she wanted to leave, but she was stuck.  
Stuck having to deal with it, to hear them arguing, to repeat prayers that no one will heed.

It's a cycle, and she's stuck in it.

She repeated the words with her last grain of hope. Hope that is slowly being drained by the day, but what more is there that she could do?

So she repeats the words.

_Please let it stop._

_Please let it stop._

_Please let it stop_

As tears continue to fall, as hope depleting from her system, as hateful words fill her head.

She repeated the words in a last hopeless attempt.

_Please, just stop._

_I beg you, please stop._

_Don't fight._

_Just stop._

_Stop._

_Stop._

_Just--_

_**SHUT UP.** _  
_._  
_._  
_._  
_._  
And it all went silent.

No noise.

No sound.

Just quite.

She froze as if a movement from her will break the silence. As if it will break this one peaceful moment that she's been praying for, for what seems like an eternity.

But then it still broke.

Like fragile glass, it broke.

By a word.

By one word that she won't have expected to hear.

By a _name_ , she won't have expected to hear.

"Aren?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> Please leave a comment on your thoughts and what I can possibly improve, and check out my Tumblr, @Writer-Aren, for fics from me.  
> Thanks for reading this. 
> 
> Link to the Fanfiction on Tumblr:  
> https://writer-aren.tumblr.com/post/180426643564/haunting-silence


End file.
